The Poem, The Locket, & The Long Goodnight
by vixenhatesyou
Summary: Helga's locket ends up in hands she would much rather have them not end up in. Arnold finds out . . .
1. The Poem

chapterone

Chapter One:  
Helga knelt down at her Arnold-shrine, within her closet. Her love, her life, her soul's torment, all here, in this strangely large closet. 

"Oh, Arnold, my sweet . . ." she wrote gracefully into her pink notebook, mouthing the words and letting them hang on her breath then into her notebook. "How I've longed for those curls of blonde to be ran through with my own small unworthy fingers, how your eyes shine so delicately past mine, my own weeping at the longing I have for them to meet my gaze. Your hands, how the grasp the baseball bat you swing so mercilessly at the ball that comes toward your blue-capped head. Ah, yes, your head. The shape of a football has never teased me so. Dear Arnold, dear, dear Arnold!"

"Helga? Oh, Helga? Are you in bed yet, dear?" A voice interrupted, calling from just outside Helga's door. 

"Yes, Miriam, what do you want?" Helga called back angrily, slamming her book shut, yet placing it softly upon the shelf.

"Oh, Helga, I need you to take out the trash. You don't mind, now, dear? Thanks." Miriam said, then walking off to her own bedroom.

Helga scowled. "Crimity! I'm not even dressed! It's nine'o'clock at night! Who does she think she is? Why can't Big Bob take it out, he's the man of the house." Helga reluctantly grabbed her robe, left her room, and walked downstairs. It wasn't that long of a walk to the dumpster anyway. 

Slipping the robe on, she spotted three big bags of trash in the corner of the kitchen. She scowled again, but grabbed two, and made her way outside to the dumpster, mumbling to herself angrily. Suddenly, a cold wind went by. Nothing much, except that she could have sworn she heard someone's voice calling out from the night. She brought her robe closer around her, slightly afraid, though telling herself she was just being a baby. "And I still have to go back for the other one . . ." she said grudgingly as she tossed the two trash bags into the dumpster, then quickly making her way back to the door. She grabbed the third bag quickly, but as she turned around back into the alley . . .

WHAM

"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Helga screamed, dropping the trash bag, then saw who it was. "Arnold? Why are you he- I mean, watch where you're going football head, you want to scare me to death?"

"I'm sorry Helga, I didn't see you. I'm looking for Abner, he's run off, I've been looking for him all afternoon."

"Well, your stinky pig isn't going to be here, so just-" Helga froze. There it was, on the ground, right at Arnold's foot. It must have fallen out of her robe when she bumped into Arnold. Her precious locket. 

"What, Helga?" Arnold asked, waiting for her to finish her sentence. "Oh," he said, "I'm sorry, let me help you." He bent down to help gather the trash bag, then noticed the locket at his foot. Helga was too shocked to move. He picked it up, but luckily didn't look down directly at it in his hand. He held it out for her. He was holding it! Her locket! His own picture inside, and he didn't even know. She hesitated, her mind racing on what he would do if he had just examined it. But she quickly grabbed it from him, shoving it into her pocket. 

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow Arnoldo." She said quickly as she went inside and slammed the door behind her. "Whew!" she cried out loud as she took out the locket to gaze at it. "You, my dear love, you don't even know how I feel . . ." she said slowly. "You held my heart in your hand just know, and didn't even realize it, oh, my love . . ." 

"Helga!" Arnold called from outside. She jumped, but opened the door again. "What do you want now, geek?"

He held out the trash bag. "Oh." She said. She grabbed it, ran to dumpster, flung it in, and ran back inside. She opened the door one last time and called out to Arnold "And don't bother me again!"

"I just thought I'd help!" he called back angrily. She was about to yell about how she didn't need his help, but when she opened the door, he was already leaving. "Oh!" she said as she slumped down onto the kitchen floor. "Arnold, such a boob. What's with him? Helping me. Bleh . . ." then, changing tone, she pulled out the locket again and held it to her. "He cares so much . . ." she sighed happily.

*******************************

"Good morning class!" Mr.Simmons said excitedly that fine school morning. The class mumbled 'good morning' back, and Mr.Simmons continued. 

"Class, I have good news for you. We will be having a poetry contest! (the class groaned) No, no, you will like this! The winner gets $500 cash prize, their poem published in the book sponsoring this contest, and they will get to represent the school as PS118's Poet of the Year!"

"Wow," Herald said, "All that money from just a dumb book wanting our poems?"

"No, Herald, not a dumb book, and not just any book. The Young Poets of America book! They have a contest like this nationally every year! And finally, PS118 has been granted the opportunity to participate!"

"500 dollars?" said Gerald, "That's definitely worth a try."

"I think it's a great contest." said Phoebe. "I adore this contest and have that past three editions of The Young Poets of America. It's an honor to have our school be given the privilege."

"I just want that 500 smackers." said Stinky. At that point the recess bell rang. Everyone ran out of the classroom excitedly talking about the cash prize. "I want everyone to enter and put their most effort into this contest!" Mr.Simmons called after them.

Helga sat down at a secluded bench and thought about the contest. "Ah, this will truly bring out my artistic nature, and the $500 ain't so bad either. I can see it now, first this poem, then my own novel, and then . . . and then . . . whoa, why am I getting so worked up over this? I haven't even written anything down yet." She pulled out her locket, and spoke to it. "What a close encounter you were faced with last night, but now, I turn to you for inspiration." She gave a quick look around, making sure no one was near, then returned to her locket. "My darling, bring the words I need from within my soul to write down this one, simple poem." She pulled out a notebook, and opened it up, many words running through her head of what would be the perfect poem of how she felt, and began to write. 

"Ha ha ha!" a voice laughed from behind her, and Helga was then hit on the back of the head with a ball, dropping her notebook and locket.

"Watch what you're doing, you ninny!" She yelled to Sid as he picked up the ball. 

"Sorry, Helga," he said, "Let me get this for you . . ." he then saw the locket. He saw Arnold. He picked it up. "What's this?" he asked. Helga was gathering her things when she looked up and saw just what she was holding. She almost screamed. 

"Nothing!" She said, trying to grab it. But Sid jumped back, a sly grin on his face. "What is this, Helga? It looks like Arnold. Do you have a crush on Arnold?" 

"Stop talking so loud! Give that back or I'll pound you!" Helga yelled. This was the second time someone had gotten hold of her locket. How clumsy was she?

Sid saw the notebook she was picking up. "What were you doing, Helga? Writing a poem for that contest? You know, from what I hear, you're real good at poetry Helga, and if you want this back, then I think you'll have to do me a little favor . . ."

"A favor? For you? Never!"

"Alright, then." Sid then ran off with the locket. Helga screamed at him, grabbed her stuff, and started chasing him. He didn't run far, but when he saw Helga on his heels, he ran into the alley behind the school.

"Give me that back, you little freak!" she yelled.

"Do me my favor." He smiled.  
  
"I'll never do you a favor, Sid. And if you-"

"Wrong! I'll tell everyone you like Arnold!"

  
"You wouldn't . . . and . . . I don't like him!"

"Then why do you have this locket, Helga?"

"It's . . . it's Lila's! I'm keeping it for Lila!"

"Then why do you want it back so badly? Everyone knows you don't like Lila! You don't like anyone! Except Arnold! Admit it!"

"Alright! I like Arnold! I like him! I love the little terp! I've loved his little football shaped head ever since the moment I saw him! Just seeing him makes me woozy! He is the very essence for which I live! He is the wind beneath my wings! He-"

"Okay, Helga, calm down."

"Uh . . . sorry. Now give me back my locket!"

"No! I know what I can have you do."

"Have me do? Have me do? I already told you I liked him!"

"No, Helga. The contest. You write good poetry, and I could always use and extra $500 . . ."

"You want me to write a winning poem for you? And then I'll get my locket back?"

"Yes."

Helga hesitated. Sid knew her secret. He had her locket, and all she had to do was write a poem. She could do it. "Alright," she said, "but if you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, that I like Arnold, then the deal is off. And I had better get my locket back once I write the poem."

"Deal." Sid said with a grin. But then Helga thought that this could be much easily solved with Ol' Betsy. But her secret might get out . . .

Before she could make a decision, Phoebe, Rhonda, and Nadine showed up. "Hi, Helga. Hi, Sid." Said Phoebe. "What are you guys up to?"

"Oh, nothing." Said Sid, his grin widening. Helga could do nothing. As she and Sid joined Phoebe and the gang, she saw Gerald go by, Arnold then appearing and calling out Gerald's name to catch up with him. She suddenly wished she was buried six feet under, and hoped Arnold, (or anyone) wouldn't learn of her secret love for him. Damn Sid. 


	2. The Locket

chaptertwo

Chapter Two:  
Helga grudgingly walked up the steps to Sid's house, holding the poem she had written for him in hand. She was still paranoid as to whether he had told anyone of her love for Arnold or not. Hopefully their deal was still final.

Helga entered Sid's house, the door already opened, and found her way to Sid's room. She heard his voice behind the door, and wondered who he was talking to. She opened the door without knocking, and what she saw made her laugh and gasp at the same time.

There Sid was, wearing strange paint on his face, kneeling (as if praying) at shrine worse then Helga's own. There it was, Sid in make-up and robes, candles burning, ceremonial music playing. A Rhonda shrine. Sid screamed when he was Helga, quickly closing the TV wall unit doors to where his shrine was kept. "He-He-Helga, what are you doing here so early? Uh, excuse the mess."

"Too late, bucko. I saw that sick display of a Rhonda-loving mess. And besides, that corny music is still playing." Helga laughed. Sid immediately moved the needle off the old record player and threw off his ceremonial robes. 

"Oh, Helga, please! Please don't tell anyone! Please! Um . . . I won't tell anyone you like Arnold if you don't tell anyone I like Rhonda!"

"I accept. Now here is your lousy poem, give me my locket."

"Wait!" Sid cried out, searching his room for the locket, finding it in a drawer. "Before I give you the locket, I want to read the poem."

"No! Take the poem and give me the locket!"

"I want to know if it is worthy of even being a good poem! For all I know, you just wrote a bunch of trash on paper just to get your locket back."

"Fine!" Helga yelled. She opened up the piece of paper in her hand, and held in up for him to read, not letting him touch it. He read it that way, then exclaimed that it's too mushy and needs more substance, and to write him a better one.

"What? Too mushy?" Helga screams, infuriated. "If you don't take this poem, I'll tell everyone that you like Rhonda! And that you're so sad you have a shrine for her in your own room! I mean, come on, what loser would have _shrine_ to someone they liked, sheesh . . ."

"Tsk, tsk." Sid grinned. "If you do, I will just tell everyone that you like Arnold, and not only that, but you still won't get your locket back."

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" Helga screamed in his face, and stormed out of his room. She went back home, madder than ever.

***********************

  
It was late. Helga sat in her room, angry, devastated, and humiliated. "How did this happen to me?" she asked no one. "How did I let my beloved escape form my grasp? How did it get into the sticky fingers of someone like Sid? Why? Why?"

Just then, from downstairs, the doorbell rang. Helga jumped, but just lay back down, feeling miserable. "How?" she asked herself, "What did I ever to deserve th-"

"Helga! A friend is here to see you!" Miriam called from downstairs.

"Who is it?" Helga called back angrily.

"Oh, that nice boy, what's his name, um . . . Arthur!"

"Arnold?!?!" Helga cried out, quickly running downstairs and to the door. She saw Arnold standing just outside the door, wearing a raincoat, dripping a little, which was why he wasn't actually in the house. She didn't even notice it had been raining outside. 

"What are you doing here, football head?"

"This might surprise you." He said, and Helga felt a wave of nausea run through her. "Oh?" she said, warily. He held out his hand. In it, was Helga's locket.   
  
She immediately grabbed it. "How did you get this?"

"I got it from Sid, Helga."

"What? But how did you-"

"Helga, a few days ago, in the alley, I heard you and Sid talking. When her got a hold of your locket."

"Wha-What? You heard us?"

"Yes. I knew of his scheme to blackmail you. I couldn't let him do that. You don't have to do anything for him now."

Helga didn't know what to say. She stared down at the locket, then at Arnold. "Arnold, I . . . I . . ."

"It's okay, Helga, you don't have to say anything. But . . ." He said, hesitantly.

"What, Arnold?" Helga asked, her heart thumping.

"Helga, I know you like me."

Helga's heart thumped harder. "What? You know? I mean- what are you talking about? Just because of this silly old locket, oh no, this isn't mine, I . . . uh . . ."

"Helga, I heard you tell Sid that you like me."

"No, no, I just told him that because I thought if I did he would give me the locket back . . . it's Lila's! Not mine!"

"I heard you tell him that, too."

"I . . . I . . . why would anyone like a football headed shaped geek?"

"Helga . . ."

"I'm serious Arnold, I don't like you. I really don't. Now, thanks for the locket back, but I have homework to do." 

"Hel-" She then slammed the door shut.

"-ga . . ." Arnold said. He was confused, and angry. "Helga," he whispered very quietly, still angry, "I just wanted to say . . . I kind of like you too . . . even if you are so mean, and never listen to me." But with that, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked home.


	3. & The Long Goodnight

chapterthree

Chapter Three:  
Helga slouched down next to the door. "I can't believe this . . ." she kept thinking, congratulating herself on saving the situation. It wasn't until 10 minutes later that she realized just how un-saved it was. Just how worse it had gotten. She tried to fight back tears, slapping herself ("Get a hold of yourself, you crybaby!") but it wouldn't stop. She cried. "I ruined it. He was right there, telling me my own secret, and I had to deny it! To stop it . . . well, of course I had to deny it . . . but then . . . ah! I ruined it! Every attempt to tell him . . . always ruined . . . always my fault." She crumpled up into fetal position on the kitchen floor, eventually falling asleep there.

**************************

Why was she always mean? Always cruel? His head wasn't really shaped like a football . . . no one else seemed to think so. Arnold couldn't get that moment with Helga out of his head. It had only happened not too long ago. Just earlier that evening. And now here he was, in his room, unable to think straight. 

He sat up, and turned on his stereo. "I'm not angry anyway." He told himself, lying. "But . . ." he thought, he didn't want it to turn out this way. Even if it was just Helga Pataki, Helga 'outofmywayoryou'llgetavisitfromOl'Betsy' Pataki. 

"I need to let this go." He thought. And with that he lay down to sleep. If he could.

**************************

Two weeks later. Helga had almost completely forgotten about Rhonda's party. But here she was now, wondering why she even came. She had felt so empty lately, after all that had happened. After slamming her door in Arnold's face.

Helga sat in a chair, watching Sid trying to flirt with Rhonda, and getting no response. It made her remember that stupid shrine of his, which made her remember her own shrine. She sighed, and thought about him. Him. Arnold. She had come so close to telling him. So close, that he was the one telling _her_. Why did she have to always screw things up?

Helga walked out onto Rhonda's balcony, the dancing and the music getting to her. She needed to be alone, and conveniently, no one was out here. She smoothed out her red dress, better than that old pink one, and pulled out her locket. After losing it a good number of times she now clung on to it like there was no tomorrow. Inside it, now, is one-of-the-many poems that she wrote about Arnold, except this was the one that Sid rejected. The one she considered her best work. To think she almost gave it up to that slimeball, Sid. Oh well. She was here now, and he didn't have her locket. Their promise of not telling anyone who the other liked still held, and she was glad. She pulled out the poem, and read it silently to herself. 

Arnold, inside the party with Gerald, eyed Helga from the moment she walked out onto the balcony. He waited for Gerald to go off and ask Phoebe to dance until he went out to see her. When he did, she jumped, and hid the locket behind her back (he didn't notice) but then she went back into Helga-routine. "Hey, football head."

"Hey, Helga. What are you doing out here?"

"I just needed some fresh air." She said softly. "Why aren't you in the party?"

"I wanted to see what you were up to."

"Oh, nothing, really . . ." she said, trying to think of a way to slip the poem back into her locket without him noticing. 

Helga stared at him. They both just stood there, both in uncomfortable silence, and for a good long time. Just leaning over the balcony, gazing out over the city.   
  
"Helga," he said.

"Y-yes, Arnold?" She said. 

"It's really late. I have to be home soon."

"Oh, me too."

"May I walk you home?"

She was surprised. "Of course, Arnold."

"Good." He said, and they left the party. Arnold said bye to Gerald, and Helga did the same with Phoebe. They were both dumbfounded to see Arnold and Helga leaving the party together, but quickly their attention went back to each other. 

The walk was mostly silent. When they neared her house, Arnold wished her a goodnight, but before she could open the door, he spoke again. "Helga, about what happened . . ."

Helga's mind froze. 'About what happened.' About how stupid she had been. About how stupid she was. "I'm not as bitter as I appear " she thought. "I just can't face the truth even when it is staring right back at me. It is just that it seems like forever ago that the right thing happened at the wrong time, and the right remarks made me what I am. But Arnold . . . " she paused her own thoughts wondering what could she say with out ruining everything once again. "If this all were to end tonight," she thought, "if he were to say what I think he's going to say . . . would I mind? All the poetry, all the times I've tried to foul things up between Lila and him, all the times I've told myself how much I've loved him . . . would it all end if he were to deny me?"

"Helga? Helga?" Arnold said, grabbing hold of her shoulder.

"What?" she said dumbly. Arnold let her shoulder go. "You blanked out for a minute there. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. You . . ." she couldn't bring herself to call him a doofus, football head, geek, or anything. She felt too different. 

"Arnold, I'm sorry about slamming the door in your face. I'm sorry about being so mean. You just don't know what it's like . . ." she said quietly.

"Helga, what do you mean?"

"Oh, Arnold!" she practically yelled. He took a step back, surprised. "Don't you get it! All this torment! All this pressure! It never ends! Day after day I go by thinking about it non-stop, never giving myself the chance to. I can do nothing about it!"

Arnold frowned. He wanted to calm her down, she wouldn't stop yelling. "Helga, I'm sorry I accused you of liking me. It just made sense with the locket and all, I didn't mean to upset you so much-"

Helga wasn't expecting that. "ARNOLD!" Helga yelled, "Don't you get it? I _do_ like you! I love you! I have ever since the first time I saw you! Ever since I saw that football shaped head! Ever since you told me you like my bow! That's the only reason I still wear the thing! I love you, Arnold! I've been hiding it for so long that of course I denied when you yourself asked me about it! There were already plenty of times when you could have known! I love you, Arnold! I love you!" She cried out, then calmed down a little.   
  
"Arnold . . ." she said. He looked at her, and then her outstretched hand, holding the poem. He gently took it from her, and slowly read it. He looked at her when he was finished, then read it again. He turned to Helga and saw that she was holding that same locket.

"So that _is_ your locket." he said. "And you do like me." he finished.

She nodded.

He paused, then asked "How could you like me? And for so long?"

"I-well, you . . ." Helga stuttered, "How . . . well . . . how could anyone not like you for this long?"

Arnold sighed a little, then gave a sheepish smile. "You know, Helga, this may come as a shock to you, but, I like you too. When I thought you liked me, I began to feel the same."

"Really?" she said, genuinely surprised. 

He nodded.

Neither knew what to do or say after that. They just stood quietly, Helga's thoughts racing of 'her every dream come true', though she stared at the ground, not moving. 

Until Arnold did.

Arnold smiled, moved closer to her, and kissed her. Helga's heart skipped a beat.

"Goodnight again, Helga." He said, his eye contact making her heart thump more. He then walked off, going the way of his own home.

Helga's goofy smile broadened. "Goodnight, my blonde-haired prince . . . "   



	4. *Author's Note

author

*Author's note

This is my first fanfiction ever, and I think I did pretty decently. The last chapter isn't my favorite. I had three different endings to it, and I wasn't satisfied with either one, but chose the one on here now. This fiction isn't great, and I know there are parts in it that are farfetched, out of character, or whatever, but, this was my first try. Thanks for all the reviews.


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